third time's the charm
by belle parole
Summary: two times petunia hates cats and one times she still hates cats [for ql]


_for ql, tornados captain, write about a normally cold character using baby talk with a pet_

 _1138 words, by gdocs_

 _thank you to audrey, ana, vic, and rose for betaing!_

* * *

Petunia takes slight relish in seeing Lily get in trouble. It isn't often that their mother snaps at either of them, but Lily gets in trouble even less than Petunia.

Today, though, Lily spent a good portion of time outside, despite the December cold, and she's come home with her jumper bundled in her arms.

"Lily!" Petunia hears her mother say as Lily enters, her nose red and white flakes littering her hair. "Why aren't you wearing your jumper? It's far too cold to not be covered."

Petunia's sitting at their dining table, sipping hot chocolate and hiding a smirk as her seven-year-old sister frowns. Lily walks over to the table, setting her jumper down carefully.

"It was important, Mum," she says, unfolding it.

Petunia leans in closer to the jumper, watching as something small sticks its head out.

"What is that, Lily?" Petunia asks, pointing.

Their mother joins them at the table, also looking at the jumper.

" _Lily,_ " their mother says as the creature stands up, mewing.

It's a cat. Well, it's not a full-grown cat, really. A _kitten_.

"Where'd you find it?" Petunia asks, leaning slightly back in her chair.

She's not a huge fan of animals. They're all messy. Even cats, although Lily is of the opinion that they're the cleanest animals there are. "They clean _themselves_!" Lily would insist to Petunia late at night, in the bed next to hers, whispering so their mother didn't hear them. She never got Petunia to agree.

"It was in the snow," Lily says, gingerly petting the kitten.

Petunia looks up at her mother, frowning. Sure, it's not okay to leave a kitten out in the snow, but it's not like they're going to _keep_ it, right?

"Lily," their mother says softly, putting her hands up so that the kitten doesn't walk off of the table. "You know we can't keep it."

Lily frowns at their mother, as if, no, she did _not_ know that they couldn't keep it.

"We can't put it back in the cold, Mum!" she argues, grabbing the kitten and pulling it towards her.

"We'll take it to a shelter in a couple of days," their mother says, giving Lily a small smile.

"Can we keep it until then?" Lily asks, stroking it with two fingers.

"Well, we can't put it back in the cold," their mother says, putting a hand on Lily's shoulder before walking away.

Petunia swallows the last drops of her hot chocolate, looking at her little sister, who's still petting the cat.

"We have a kitten for bit, Tuney," Lily says, grinning at Petunia. "Isn't that great?"

Petunia shrugs, placing her mug in the sink.

"I still don't like them, Lily," she replies, preparing to walk out of the room.

Lily narrows her eyes at Petunia.

"You will," she tells her, sounding absolutely sure.

…

There's something crawling on Petunia. She wakes up with a start, jerking up. Something falls off of her, letting out a mew and hitting the ground with a thump.

"Shhhh," a voice comes.

Lily's standing over her now, her eyes wide.

"Lily? What —?"

"I don't want Mum to come in," Lily whispers, her voice sounding urgent.

Petunia sits up properly, looking at her fourteen-year-old sister. It's still dark outside, and Petunia has no idea what time it is, but she does know what she heard when she woke up.

"Lily, was that a _cat_?"

Lily's silence is a good enough answer.

" _Lily_ ," Petunia hisses. She's not really sure what to say to her sister. "Where did you even get a cat _from_?" Petunia really hopes that this isn't another stray cat Lily's brought in; she remembers the kitten they harbored for a few days years ago like it was just days ago.

"Look, it's my friend's cat. I'm watching him for a few days and when I go to sleep over at her house I'm returning him," Lily explains, sitting on the edge of Petunia's bed. "I just need him to stay in your room."

Petunia watches the cat walk around, sniffing the corners. She notices that there's a litter box in the corner of her room, definitely placed there by Lily. The smells coming from it are not pleasant.

"No," Petunia says, squinting at her sister. "Why can't he stay in your room?"

"Because," Lily says, sounding slightly exasperated, "I'm going to stay at Mary's house tomorrow and he'll get lonely locked up in my room. All you have to do is feed him for two days and let him sleep with you."

Petunia gives Lily a long look.

"I hate cats," Petunia says. "They poop in a box."

Lily shrugs, and they both turn their heads to watch the cat. He stands in his litter box, squatting down. Petunia jerks her head away.

" _Please_ , Tuney?" she asks, clasping her hands together.

"Fine," Petunia says, fixing Lily with a glare that she hopes will stick with Lily. Knowing her sister, this is probably some convoluted plan to convince Petunia that cats are saints. Well, Petunia doesn't like cats. This isn't going to work.

She is _not_ going to enjoy this.

…

Lily's tea is great. It really is. Petunia appreciates the chance to get to sit down with her twenty-one-year-old sister and be able to talk about anything and nothing.

And then the cat walks into the room.

"Of course you have a cat," Petunia says, staring it down. It has a sleek black coat and yellow eyes and it looks right back at her, as if sizing her up.

Lily stands up and scoops the cat up in her arms, abandoning her cup of tea.

"I don't understand why you dislike cats," Lily says, pressing the cat to her face.

Petunia rolls her eyes. Animals and Petunia Dursley just don't mix. She doesn't _want_ to mix with animals. They're too messy and wild.

"Look, just hold him. His name is Charles," Lily says, holding out the cat. Petunia doesn't take it.

"Charles?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"James thought it'd be funny," she replies, shrugging. "Hold him," she says, again.

Petunia gives in this time. It can't hurt to hold him for a few seconds, as long as she makes sure to get rid of any stray hairs.

And it's actually a little bit nice.

The cat — Charles — leans a little into her and actually purrs into Petunia's arm. She pets it with one hand.

"Aw, you're a good boy," Petunia coos at it, feeling it melt her heart. "Yes, you are."

She looks back up at Lily as the cat steps away from her. Lily's wearing a big smirk on her face.

"See, you like cats!" she says, smiling at Petunia. Petunia rolls her eyes and shakes her head. It was just one pet.

Nope.

Petunia doesn't like cats.


End file.
